


Long Island Iced Tea

by TheInsaneFox



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Bartender AU, Bartender Keith, Blow Jobs, Lance has a collection of horrible ugly sweaters it's canon ok, M/M, Merry Christmas, Shiro loves Long Island Iced Teas, Ugly Sweater parties, background Allura/Lance, background allurance, merry sheithmas
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-25
Updated: 2018-12-25
Packaged: 2019-09-27 08:47:59
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,766
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17158913
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheInsaneFox/pseuds/TheInsaneFox
Summary: “And why can’t a guy like me enjoy sweet drinks?” The man was laughing at that, so at least he seemed to have a good sense of humor about the situation.Keith nodded. “Fair enough. Although my judgment is because those are a horrible pain in the ass to make during a rush.”That earned him a sheepish blush. “Sorry. I just really hate the taste of alcohol and I’ve found these do the best job of masking the flavor so I can still get drunk.”The guy raised his drink in a mock-salute before going back to the table where his friends were.As soon as Keith was sure he wouldn’t be seen, he pulled the card from the glass and checked the name on it.Takashi Shirogane.Takashi Shirogane was lucky he was so hot.





	Long Island Iced Tea

**Author's Note:**

> This started out as a ridiculous intrusive thought of "What would happen if Keith was a bartender and Shiro kept ordering the most obnoxious, sweetest drinks during a rush and a piece of Keith's soul died every time?"
> 
> After a few silly conversations with my friends, this story was born.
> 
> I'm sorry it's not my best fic ever, but I'm still riding the wave of pain that was S8 so I needed to write something cute and fluffy for Sheith to heal my soul.
> 
> Lance's sweaters are real too, I wish I was joking. I found them while trying to find something for this fic.

“Long Island Iced Tea.”  
  


Keith looked up from the drink he was mixing in a shaker, not sure he’d heard the guy right. It was Saturday and the bar was swamped, so surely he’d just misheard the order.

  
“Sorry, what?” Keith called over the loud music, pouring out the drink and handing it to the girl waiting by the cash register.  
  


“I said a Long Island!” the man repeated, leaning over the counter to try and get closer to Keith and make sure his order was heard.  
  


Keith raised an eyebrow and looked the guy up and down for a second. He was tall, well over six foot, with the sculpted muscles of someone who spent many hours a day at the gym. His hair was silver, which was odd given how young he looked, but that and the pink scar on his nose did nothing to take away from the attractiveness of the man.  
  


He wasn’t known for his people skills, but Keith really believed there was a special place in Hell for anyone who ordered a Long Island during a rush. So he leaned forward and tried to respond, in the most polite tone he could muster, “You know it’s really busy and it’s going to take a bit to make that. Could be a wait.”  
  


The silver-haired man shrugged, “That’s fine, I’m in no hurry.”  
  


Resigned, Keith set about finishing up the other drinks he’d taken orders for before the dreaded LIT, thinking how lucky this guy was that he was so damn hot. It was annoying, but he still had to do his job.  
  


Ten minutes later Keith was slamming the drink down in front of the guy, telling him his total. A pretty girl with white hair and blue eyes had appeared and was talking to him like they knew each other, but when the man went to fish out his wallet, she left to sit at a table where another guy was waiting.  
  


The man handed Keith a card, and after establishing that he wanted to leave his tab open, Keith tucked the card into the glass they kept behind the bar with all of the open tabs.    
  
  
“You must really like her if you’re willing to wait around for that drink,” Keith smirked.   
  
  
“You mean Allura?” The man actually let out a genuine laugh at that. “We’re not together. She’s not my type. Also, she hates sweet drinks.”  
  


“Good, so she’s actually sane.” Keith couldn’t help the smirk on his face.

  
“And why can’t a guy like me enjoy sweet drinks?” The man was laughing at that, so at least he seemed to have a good sense of humor about the situation.  
  


Keith nodded. “Fair enough. Although my judgment is because those are a horrible pain in the ass to make during a rush.”  
  


That earned him a sheepish blush. “Sorry. I just really hate the taste of alcohol and I’ve found these do the best job of masking the flavor so I can still get drunk.”  
  


“Shots work too, you know. Down them before you can taste them.”  
  


The guy’s face turned visibly green at that. “I uh...let’s just say I’ve had some bad experiences with shots.”  
  


“Who hasn’t?” Keith smiled. “I have to get back to work now, but let me know if you need anything else.”   
  
  
The guy nodded and raised his drink in a mock-salute before going back to the table where his friends were.   
  
  
As soon as Keith was sure he wouldn’t be seen, he pulled the card from the glass and checked the name on it.  
  


_ Takashi Shirogane _ .  
  


Takashi Shirogane was lucky he was so hot.  
  


By the time Keith was announcing last call, Shirogane had bought five Long Islands. How he was still standing, Keith had no idea, but his male friend assured Keith that he’d already called an Uber for all of them while Shirogane was closing out his tab.  
  


When Keith was closing down his register for the night, he nearly choked on the water he was drinking when he saw the tip Shirogane had left him.  
  


Okay, if he was going to order the most obnoxious drink known to man, at least he had the decency to leave a good tip.

 

* * *

  
  


Keith figured that he shouldn’t have been surprised that Shirogane became a regular after that first night. Every Saturday he showed up with the same two people--the beautiful girl with the long white hair--Allura, he remembered Shirogane calling her-- and the guy with large wire-framed glasses and a scar on his cheek. The male friend of Shirogane’s looked strangely familiar, but Keith didn’t have time to dwell on it and decided he just must be a regular at the bar.   
  
  
Shirogane, of course, always ordered that damned Long Island Iced Tea. It didn’t matter how busy the bar was, it was all he drank, and Keith continued to feel a small piece of his soul die every single time he ordered it.  
  


At least Allura usually got a whiskey neat and the other guy got whatever beer special was going on that night. So his friends at least had enough sense to order simple, easy drinks. Keith thought he might like them better than Shirogane based on that alone.  
  


By the fourth week, Keith didn’t even wait for him to order. As soon as he saw the shock of silver hair come through the door, he set to work mixing up the vile drink.  
  


Shirogane seemed surprised when Keith handed him the glass without having to ask.  
  


“What’s this?” As if he didn’t know.  
  


“What do you think? It’s a Long Island.” Keith was fighting every neuron in his brain that was telling him to roll his eyes.  
  


The smile he got in return was worth it. Almost.  
  


“Shiro,” Shirogane said, extending his hand.  
  
  
Keith took the hand and shook it weakly. “What?”

  
“My name. If you know me well enough to have my drink ready for me before I even order, I figured you should know that too.”  
  


“Oh. Uh, Keith. I’m Keith.” He really hoped he didn’t sound as dumb to Shiro as he did to his own ears.  
  


“Well, thanks, Keith. I’ll be back in a bit, I’m sure.” He winked and grabbed his drink before walking over to his friends.  
  


Keith tried not to stare at Shiro’s retreating back, but he couldn’t help but let his gaze wander to Shiro’s ass and...damn. He’d never seen such an amazing ass. The tight jeans he wore were hugging it in exactly all of the right places.  
  


He started having intrusive thoughts of what that ass would look like naked, preferably while he was pounding into it…  
  


“You’re drooling on the bar.”   
  
  
Keith blinked, shaking his head. “Fuck off, Lance,” he snapped at his coworker. “Don’t act like you haven’t been staring at Allura this whole time, either.”  
  
  
Lance laughed and wrapped an arm around Keith’s shoulder. In turn, Keith shrugged him off before he set to work pouring shots for a group of girls who came to the bar.  
  


“He’s hot,” Lance stated, waiting for Keith to chime in while he filled his own drink orders.  
  


“Sure,” Keith replied. He really didn’t want to have this conversation with his coworker, but Lance was never one to let something go.  
  


“No, seriously. I’m straight and I’d hit that.” Lance didn’t even care that they were in the middle of yet another huge rush and there were a hundred people screaming drink orders at them and probably listening to them talk. He just always had to make things weird.  
  


Keith rolled his eyes at Lance and went back to work.  
  


The night flew by fast, and by the time last call rolled around, Shiro was waiting for him so he could close his tab.  
  


When Keith handed him his receipt and a pen to sign it, Shiro gave him an odd wink that left Keith rather confused. They hadn’t spoken the rest of the night after their original interaction, but somehow Keith was suddenly nervous to be this close to Shiro again. Shiro didn’t say anything, just slid him the signed receipt, flashed him a grin, and walked out the door with Allura and their other friend.  
  


Keith had no idea what to make of the whole thing.  
  


It wasn’t until they were closing down the register later that Keith noticed a note written on a receipt towards the top of his pile. Curious, he pulled it out to see what it said and….  
  


Oh.  
  


Shiro had left his phone number on the receipt with a little “text me sometime :)” scribbled on it in neat, all capital letters.  
  


_ Figures he has perfect block handwriting _ . Keith internally rolled his eyes but at the same time was charmed by this little detail about the man who had been ordering those cursed drinks for the last few weeks.  
  


Looking around to make sure nobody was watching, Keith took a picture of the note with his phone and then stuffed the receipt back into the pile to be filed away for later.

 

* * *

 

A few nights later, Keith sat at home in the living room of his shitty studio apartment, splayed on his couch in nothing but his boxers and playing Red Dead Redemption 2. He was off from the bar that night, and Lance had been bugging him about an ugly sweater party later when he finished his shift, but Keith wasn’t sure he was in the mood for it. He spent so much time around drunk people at work that he really just wanted a quiet night alone.

  
Or at least as alone as he could be when Pidge, his best friend, had invited herself over and was determined to talk to him until his ears bled about some new tech thing or another.  
  


“Really, Keith, you  _ have _ to try this new program I found!” He had absolutely no idea what she was talking about. In truth, he’d tuned her out about an hour ago.  
  


Keith went back to focusing on the game, but eventually, he heard Pidge saying his name.   
  
  
“Huh?” Keith realized it was painfully obvious that he hadn’t been paying attention, but didn’t care at that moment as he shot a buffalo in the game.  
  


Pidge let out an exasperated sigh, which was honestly her usual state when talking to Keith or Lance. “Never mind, you’re clearly not listening.”  
  


“Sorry.” Keith winced, suddenly feeling really bad.  
  


“Whatever, it’s fine just..ugh! I’m so bored.” Pidge flopped over so she was starfished in the love seat next to the couch Keith occupied.  
  


“Want a turn on the game?” Keith offered, pressing pause on the controller.

  
“No. I’ve already played through it twice.”

  
He shrugged and hit the restart button. “I can’t help you then.”  
  


Silence followed for a few blessed minutes, Keith focused entirely on the game while he felt Pidge’s eyes boring holes into the side of his head. He could tell she was up to something, he just wasn’t sure that he wanted to know what.  
  


“Didn’t Lance mention an ugly sweater party?” Pidge finally broke the silence.  
  
  
Keith groaned. “Yes, unfortunately.”  
  


Pidge looked like he had just presented her with the greatest gift she could have received. “Great! We’re going!”  
  


“Do I get a say in this?”  
  


“No.”

 

* * *

  
  


He should have known his night would end up like this. Lance always somehow got his way, and Pidge was just his little minion, Keith decided.  
  


Which was how Keith found himself standing in the middle of a house party several hours later. The music was way too loud, everyone was wearing some hideous Christmas sweater (Lance, of course, had a whole collection and forced Keith to borrow one), Christmas lights were strung up haphazardly around various pieces of furniture. Everyone was drunk and annoying. And Pidge had, predictably, wandered off when she caught sight of Hunk and had gone off somewhere with him to talk computer shit.  
  


In other words, it was Keith’s personal hell.  
  


“Keith, buddy, cheer up!” Lance was already drunk, arm slung around Keith’s shoulder and holding up a red solo cup whose contents kept spilling over the rim. He didn't even seem to notice when Keith winced and tried to duck out from under his arm.  
  


He wanted, more than anything, to tell Lance to fuck off. But instead, he reached up, snagged his drink from him, and chugged it without even checking to see what was in it. It gave the same message and was much more satisfying.  
  


“What the fuck?” Lance cried, watching mournfully as Keith downed his jungle juice in little more than a gulp.  
  


Keith held up his middle finger with his free hand while he finished off the drink.  
  


Lance was pouting when Keith put the empty cup down. Keith shrugged, completely unapologetic. “I’m only here because you and Pidge dragged me.”  
  


“You owe me a drink.” Lance crossed his arms and leveled Keith with a glare, completely ignoring Keith’s statement.  
  


Keith shrugged and began walking towards the kitchen. “Fine. I need another one anyway.”  
  


He heard Lance yelling something at him, but didn’t bother to go back and figure out what it was. He needed five minutes to himself to grab a drink and just breathe, away from his friends who were suffocating him.  
  


The bar in the kitchen wasn’t much to work with. Maybe he was just spoiled from being used to working with a fully-stocked bar, but his choices seemed to be shitty or shittier vodka, Natty Light, and a couple of mixers that could possibly be some flat Coke or maybe some cranberry juice; he couldn’t really tell when he smelled it, so he decided ‘fuck it’ and just tossed it in with some of the slightly less shitty of the vodkas and hoped for the best. The house was barely a step above a frat on a college campus, and he was officially not in the mood to deal with the loud assholes who were at this party. He didn’t even have the vaguest clue who lived here, let alone how Lance supposedly knew them.  
  


Keith stood in the kitchen, pondering his choices of what he could bring back for Lance. He decided he was getting a Natty Light because that’s all he deserved for dragging Keith to this awful party, and as he reached forward to grab the can, a loud ‘thunk’ as the door flew open drew his attention away.  
  


“You’ve got to be kidding me,” Keith deadpanned.  
  


“Ouch. Bad enough you never called me, now that?” It was meant to sound offended, but Shiro failed at containing the humor behind it.  
  


Keith laughed and rolled his eyes. “There’s nothing to make a LIT here, so don’t even bother asking.”  
  


Shiro returned the laugh, walking around to stand across the counter from Keith. “That’s fine. James wouldn’t know good liquor if someone set it on fire and burned his eyebrows off with it.”  
  


“Who?” Keith had absolutely no idea who Shiro was talking about.   
  
  
“James? He owns this house?” Shiro raised an eyebrow but Keith just replied with an emphatic shrug.  
  


“Honestly, the only reason I’m here is because my friends made me come. I was home playing video games before this.”  
  


Shiro grinned at that. “What game?”  
  


“Red Dead Redemption 2.”  
  


Shiro let out a low whistle. “Damn. I can’t believe you came to this party over that. Nice sweater, by the way.”   
  
  
Keith hoped he wasn’t blushing. The sweater Lance forced him into was bright red and featured two male reindeer humping. It was atrocious, but he hadn’t really ever been given a choice.  
  


“It’s not mine,” Keith said, probably sounding overly defensive to anyone who heard him. “Where’s yours?”  
  


Shiro looked down at his chest and shrugged at his obvious lack of an ugly sweater. “I didn’t care enough about staying on theme to find one last minute.”  
  
  
“Lucky,” Keith grumbled. “My friends are assholes and didn’t give me a choice.”  
  


Shiro raised an eyebrow but blessedly chose to ignore Keith’s tone. “So who are you here with?”  
  


“Lance and Pidge. You’ve probably seen Lance, he’s usually working the bar with me, and Pidge--”  
  


“Pidge? As in Katie ‘Pidge’ Holt?”  
  


Keith stopped and stared at Shiro, trying to figure out how in the hell Pidge knew him and had never once fucking told Keith. His confusion must have shown on his face because Shiro supplied him with the information: “Matt, my best friend, is her older brother. He’s usually at the bar with me.”  
  


It took several seconds for Keith’s brain to process what Shiro was saying, but he was suddenly kicking himself for not seeing it sooner. Matt looked  _ exactly _ like Pidge, no wonder he’d been thinking he was familiar when they first met. The only difference was the height and the scar on Matt’s cheek.  
  


“Wow,” Keith finally said. “Small fucking world.”  
  


“It is, indeed.”.  
  


Keith felt like he should say something to continue the conversation, but Lance chose that exact moment to storm into the kitchen, yelling, “Keith! Where the hell are you? I want my drink!”  
  


Both Shiro and Keith looked up at the interruption. Lance took the opportunity to storm over towards Keith and grab at the drink he had mixed himself, but Keith snatched it away. “No way! You get the shitty beer! You’ve had enough.”  
  


This caused a small scuffle to break out between the two of them for a few seconds. Keith noticed Shiro looking a little distressed watching the scene unfold, but he was too busy guzzling his drink before Lance could wrestle it away from him.  
  


Keith was victorious, and while Lance pouted and sipped at his now warm beer, another person entered the kitchen.  
  


“Shiro!  _ There _ you are!”  
  


Allura had now entered the kitchen and was staring at the scene before her. Keith could feel the judgment rolling off of her in waves when she looked first at Keith, at the humping reindeer on his fucking sweater, to Lance, who was staring at her like he’d never seen anything so gorgeous in his life.   
  
  
_ Wow. _ Keith saw Lance whisper the word to himself.  
  


He realized Allura was staring at Lance’s sweater, eyebrows raised in mock amusement. “You have ho’s in different area codes, do you?”  
  


Lance spluttered, and Keith swore he could actually see his brain malfunction. Lance was absolute shit at talking to pretty girls, so Keith decided this was his opportunity to nod his head in the direction of the back door when he locked eyes with Shiro and make his escape while Lance and Allura did a weird dance around each other.  
  


They made it to the living room, where it looked like people had moved on to either the dance floor in the basement or to a room upstairs, so it was surprisingly quiet. Keith chose a spot on a stained couch and motioned to Shiro to join him.  
  


Once Shiro was settled in the seat next to him, Keith suddenly realized he didn’t know what he was planning on saying. He hadn’t thought this far ahead, so he panicked and blurted the first thing that came to his mind. “I’m sorry I never texted you.”  
  


“It’s okay. I thought maybe you hadn’t seen my number. I wasn’t sure how much you pay attention to the receipts. Or maybe you really were judging me about my drink of choice.” Shiro was scratching the shaved part of his hair, looking at his feet, but tried to laugh and play it off.  
  


“What? No! I mean, yes I was definitely judging you, but not that badly.” Keith bit his lip, stopping himself from babbling any farther. “Sorry, I’m not good at this.”   
  
  
“At talking?” Shiro teased.   
  
  
“Well, kinda. Mostly at this whole people thing.”  
  


Shiro chuckled at that. “Maybe. But I still like you. Would you maybe want to get dinner sometime this week?”   
  


Keith felt all of the blood rushing to his face. “Uh, yeah. I would really like that.”

  
After that, the conversation became easier. Maybe the alcohol finally kicked in, or maybe Keith was realizing that he was actually comfortable with Shiro, but either way, he was glad. It had been a really long time since he felt so at ease with a new person and it made Keith think that maybe this was a sign of good things to come. And even though they were talking about the most inane things, from music to work to the weather, Keith still felt like he was learning some very intimate details about Shiro and his life.  
  


Eventually, Allura came storming out of the kitchen, plowing through the crowds to the front door, Lance hot on her heels. Keith had no idea what happened, but he heard Lance frantically yelling, “Wait, I’m sorry!”  
  


“Oh god that’s not a good sign,” Keith sighed and buried his face in his hands. “I’m sorry my friend is an idiot and probably said something really stupid to her.”  
  


“Probably. Allura can take care of herself, but I should probably go check on her.” Shiro looked like he was hesitating as if he didn’t want to leave the conversation just yet.  
  


“Yeah, good idea. I’ll go tell Lance that he fucked up. Again.”  
  


With a resigned sigh, Keith stood up and began walking towards where Lance and Allura had disappeared, Shiro close behind. They made it out to the front door and were about to start trying to console their friends when, to their surprise, Lance and Allura were actually making out on the front porch.  
  


“Well then...I guess we’re not needed after all.” Shiro looked at Keith, waiting for a response.  
  


“Yeah. Guess not.” Keith wasn’t sure what to do from there.  
  


They stood outside in the cold, awkwardly avoiding eye contact with each other while they tried not to stare at their friends, although Lance and Allura were entirely in their own bubble and paid no attention. Shiro was shifting his weight back and forth from one foot to the other before he finally spoke.  
  


“Do you uh...wanna come back to my place?”  
  


_ That _ caught Keith’s attention enough to pull his eyes away from the scene that was Allura and Lance practically choking on each other’s tongues. He was hesitant to leave with a guy he barely knew but then again given Lance’s preoccupation, he knew he wasn’t going to be getting a ride home anytime soon.  
  


“Yeah, sure.” Keith didn’t give himself time to change his mind.  
  


Shiro lead the way down the sidewalk, explaining to Keith he lived relatively close to James. Keith nodded and tried to act like he was engaged in the conversation, but his mind was honestly screaming at him that he was going home with a guy he barely even knew.   
  
  
He realized that maybe going home with Shiro was hardly the smartest thing he’d ever done. But Shiro was friends with Pidge’s brother, so at least his friends and family would know where to find his body if he got murdered, he kept telling himself.  
  


It started to snow on their walk, and Keith couldn’t help but laugh at that. It felt like some weird Hallmark Channel movie setup, but somehow going home from an ugly sweater party with a virtual stranger hardly seemed to fit that theme.  
  


He realized Shiro had stopped and was saying something, so Keith shook his head to clear his thoughts and looked up. They were standing in front of a generic brick apartment building, so Keith presumed the door Shiro was walked towards was his.   
  
  
“We’re here,” Shiro sounded like he had said this a couple of times already.  _ Shit.  
  
_

Keith wasn’t sure what to say, so he nodded and wordlessly followed Shiro inside. The space they entered was more or less how Keith had pictured it looked--an older, slightly run-down apartment, with ugly shag carpeting and minimalist furnishings. He paused, trying to figure out if he should remove his shoes first, but relaxed when Shiro didn’t move to take his off.  
  


Once the door was closed, Shiro was suddenly in Keith’s space. It took Keith the slightest bit off guard, but he would be lying if he didn’t admit he was hoping that this would happen. He’d been thinking about Shiro almost nonstop since he started coming to his bar and he’d often imagined what it would be like to be pressed up against Shiro, to be touching him...  
  


“Keith.” Shiro had leaned forward and his lips were hovering mere inches from Keith’s. He could smell warm cinnamon on Shiro’s breath, probably leftover from a drink he’d had earlier. “Can I kiss you?”  
  
  
“God, yes, please.”  
  


It was like a dam broke between them and they were instantly on each other, mouths hot and moving together. Keith opened his mouth in a surprised gasp at the intensity of it and instantly felt Shiro’s tongue taking advantage of it. He shouldn’t have been surprised by the fact Shiro was an incredible kisser, but he still felt his knees go weak all the same as he moaned Shiro’s name against his mouth.  
  


A pair of warm hands were suddenly at the hem of his sweater, playing with the edge of it as if waiting for permission to take it any farther. Keith reached down and pushed the hands under his sweater, reveling in the feeling of skin on skin.  
  


“So much for dinner first, huh?” Keith laughed and nipped at Shiro’s bottom lip.  
  


Shiro’s face turned an alarming shade of red in the most adorable blush Keith had ever seen at that comment. “I’m sorry, we could stop, I don’t want to push y--”  
  


Keith cut him off with another kiss for a few seconds. Once he felt Shiro relax, he pulled back and said, “We can do dinner another time. Right now, let’s just enjoy this.”  
  


After a few seconds, Shiro swallowed and nodded his agreement before pressing his lips against Keith’s again.  
  


The kiss gradually built up in intensity, and eventually, they both stepped back long enough to yank their shirts over the heads before tossing them aside.  
  


“Your sweater turned out to be fitting,” Shiro teased as he kissed down Keith’s neck.  
  


“Ugh. Don’t ever let Lance hear you say that.”  
  


Shiro hummed in a non-committal response and sucked a dark spot at the nape of Keith’s neck. “Should we move this to the bedroom?”   
  
  
Keith nodded, unable to answer verbally beyond a needy whine. So when Shiro grabbed his hand and led him down the hall to another room, he was thrilled as he felt Shiro lift him up and toss him back onto a soft mattress. Something about the pure strength he felt from Shiro was drawing a more primal side out of Keith as he rolled his hips and licked his lips while making eye contact the entire time.  
  


“Fuck,” Shiro breathed. “You’re so hot.”  
  


“Have you looked in a mirror?” Keith snorted before reaching up to run his hands along the carved muscles of Shiro’s abdomen.  
  


Shiro chuckled before reaching down to start unzipping his pants. He paused right before pulling them off, waiting for Keith to approve, so when Keith nodded and began to undo his own pants, Shiro followed suit.  
  


Finally, they were both naked and lying in Shiro’s bed. They stared at each other for a beat, then they were once again kissing and panting against each other. At one point, Shiro leaned over to grab some condoms and lube out of the side table drawer by Keith’s head, but he never broke contact.  
  


The familiar sound of a bottle cap clicking open was heard, and then Keith felt a slick finger probing around his entrance. Shiro hadn’t slid it in yet, was just tracing his rim and teasing him to the point of making Keith snarl. “God, are you going to get on with it or just tease me forever?”  
  


Shiro grinned wickedly and slid his index finger in as far as he could go. Keith sucked in a sharp breath at the sudden intrusion but quickly relaxed as Shiro went to work.  
  


Shiro must have picked up on Keith’s tenseness because he slid down so that his face was between Keith’s legs, and began mouthing along the side of Keith’s very erect cock while he slowly fingered him open.  
  


“Shiro, what are you--” Keith was cut off as Shiro licked up the side of his shaft before swallowing him down.  
  


Unsure of what else to do, Keith groaned and wound his fingers into Shiro’s hair, throwing his own head back and trying not to buck up into Shiro’s mouth. The feeling was incredible and if the foreplay was this good, he was sure the sex to come would destroy him.  
  


By the time Shiro was three fingers deep, Keith was a writhing, babbling mess. And just when he thought he couldn’t hold on much longer, Shiro pressed firmly into his prostate and Keith was seeing stars.  
  


“Shiro, I’m gonna come,” Keith warned, already feeling the familiar heat coiling in his lower abdomen, a spring ready to pop.  
  


Shiro let go at that and removed his fingers. Keith whined from the loss of contact, but relaxed when he realized Shiro had just pulled away to roll a condom on. Once he’d coated himself in a copious amount of lube, Shiro leaned over Keith again, pinning Keith’s hands above his head and lacing their fingers together.   
  
  
“You ready, baby?”  
  


Keith’s throat was suddenly dry, so instead of talking he just nodded.  
  


Gently, almost torturously so, Shiro lined himself up and slid inside. Once he was fully sheathed, he paused as Keith wiggled for a moment, letting himself adjust to the intrusion.  Shiro’s dick was bigger than any other he’d had before, but the stretch was incredible and he immediately wanted more.  
  


So he rolled his hips to indicate that he was ready, and Shiro finally let go.  
  


Their pace was hard and fast, and Keith let Shiro know he loved it with every gasp and moan he let out. Shiro let go of Keith’s hands in favor of balancing his weight on his forearms so that he could get a better angle, so Keith wrapped his arms around Shiro’s shoulders and pulled him as close as possible.  
  


“Fuck, Keith, you feel so good,” Shiro was starting to babble as he peppered Keith’s neck and shoulders with bites and kisses.  
  


Keith growled possessively in response and leaned up to suck Shiro’s earlobe into his mouth. He knew he was getting close so he reached down between them to stroke himself in time with Shiro’s thrusts. Then Shiro angled his hips just right and hit his prostate again, Keith cried out, “Fuck, yes, right there!”  
  


Shiro made sure to keep hitting that spot, so coupled with Keith jerking himself, his orgasm ripped through him only a few moments later. His eyes rolled back into his head as his spilled all over his hand and both their stomachs.  
  


With a loud grunt, Shiro reached his own climax right behind Keith. He continued to thrust until he had spilled everything, and with a dramatic groan, collapsed on top of Keith, still inside him and too tired to pull out.  
  


Keith laughed and let Shiro lie there for a minute while they came down from their highs and caught their breath. But after a bit, Keith was tapping Shiro on the shoulder and mumbling, “No offense, but you’re heavy. Get off.”  
  


Shiro rolled his eyes and nipped at Keith’s cheek before pulling out and rolling off of Keith. He stood and tossed the condom in the trash before walking into the bathroom. When he returned, Keith was sitting up and trying to find his clothes.  
  


“You’re leaving?” Shiro was shocked and, if Keith was being honest with himself, sounded a little hurt.  
  


“What? No. Maybe? I don’t know.” Keith was pretty sure he was starting to panic. He truly had no idea what to do given the situation. Was he supposed to stay the night? Should he just thank Shiro for the great sex and leave? God, how did they go from talking about grabbing dinner later in the week to fucking on Shiro’s bed barely an hour later?  
  


Shiro caught on to Keith’s panic and was on the other side of the room in only a few strides. He wrapped his arms around Keith and pressed his nose into the crown of his head, hot breath tickling Keith’s scalp. “Hey, relax. You don’t have to stay the night but I’m not kicking you out either. You can hang out for a bit, maybe we can watch a movie before you leave.”  
  


The tension began to leave Keith’s shoulders at the suggestion, and he finally relaxed enough to hug Shiro back. “Okay. Yeah. That sounds good.”  
  


Shiro hummed and placed a gentle kiss to Keith’s temple. “I still really want to take you out, you know. I don’t want you to think this was just a one night stand.”

  
“I know. I still really want to go to dinner with you too. But I told you I suck at this people thing,” Keith was smiling as he pulled away from Shiro. “I’m getting cold though so let me put my pants back on.”  
  


“Nah, I like you this way.” Shiro didn’t even give Keith any warning before he lifted him up bridal style and carried him into the living room.  
  


He placed Keith on the large couch against the back wall and procured a very warm, fuzzy blanket from a small bin on the floor and wrapped Keith in it. Shiro went into the kitchen briefly and returned holding a couple of bottles of water and a few snacks before joining Keith on the couch and clicking the TV on to Netflix. It was weird to be sitting on Shiro’s couch, both of them bare ass naked and merely cuddling while laughing at some horribly made old science fiction movie they found.  
  


By the time the movie ended, Keith’s eyelids were feeling heavy and he realized that he was going to need to sleep soon. So he got dressed, much to Shiro’s dismay, and gathered his things. As he went to leave, he grabbed Shiro by the back of the head and yanked him down into a long kiss.  
  


“Next weekend?” Keith asked against Shiro’s lips.  
  


Shiro nodded enthusiastically. “Yes, next weekend. I’ll take you to dinner this time.”  
  


“Perfect. It’s a date.”

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


**Author's Note:**

> As always, special thanks to my dear friends Voxane, softieghost, copperwings, thoughtsappear, catavalon, crazyhomoinspace, and Ash for listening to me whine and talk myself through this fic.
> 
> Love my Stupid Idiots and Crappy Jerks. Y'all mean the world to me! <3 <3 
> 
> Come scream at me on [Twitter](https://twitter.com/FoxyLovesFandom) and [Pillowfort](https://www.pillowfort.io/theinsanefox)!
> 
> (I'm still on [Tumblr](http://theinsanefox.tumblr.com/) too but not very active on there anymore now that it's imploded)


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